The MacLeish Chronicles
by BethMacLeish
Summary: Beth MacLeish's suicide attempt fails her and instead she finds herself waking up in a hospital, however, it was all planned. Her death was supposed to be faked so she could go back to the agency and be reassigned. There's just been a hitch in the plans to get her back to where she needs to be. Alternate Timeline/Canon and far more background on the character that is Beth MacLeish.


p class="p1"The plan had a few bumps along the way. It certainly hadn't been expected, what had happened. The plans she had been given differed from Peter. At least that made things easier. He hadn't seen the bullet coming and as such it made her shot quick. He probably hadn't even had a second to realize she'd betrayed him but that was nothing compared to how he'd betrayed her. Her own gunshot wound had to look realistic enough. Something that someone couldn't possibly survive. Since it was the absolute last option and not something anyone had thought would have to be enacted she was also hoping that everyone else remembered what the plan was and she could survive it. It was the last thought she had before pulling the trigger and blacking out. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"Upon waking, she was just surprised to be alive. Vision in only one eye. This was something she'd practiced, as morbid as the thought was. Researched. There was a general misconception that a shot to the head was always fatal. That was incorrect. In fact, it wasn't even uncommon that people did survive. Usually, it was just with various problems. She'd needed to decide beforehand what damage she was okay with. What she could sacrifice but also survive. She'd chosen her right eye. It would take some adjustments but it wasn't something that she wouldn't be able to adapt to if she wanted to continue on with her life. She'd still be able to shoot a gun and fight. That's all she wanted. Her head was killing her, a throbbing agony that she had never expected. She was in a hospital, somewhere, and the moment she moved her hand she realized that her wrist had been handcuffed to the bed. Damn. That meant that the people who had supposed to help her hadn't. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"Peter and she were under lock and key or should have been. The whole idea was for her to 'die' and be collected by 'EMTs'. Just not the kind that the government would have around. Her military sect was to pose as them and get her to a safe house. This hadn't worked. She was going to have to put up with a bunch of bullshit before she could contact them. They knew she was alive, they would know by now. She was one of their best agents and it was unlikely they weren't going to get her out of there, it would just take time. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"Her good eye looked at the door. There were guards outside and most likely FBI. She took a deep breath and felt around her for some sort of button that would issue pain medication. Once she found it, she pressed it and felt the burning liquid flow into her. She took in a sharp breath and tried to relax and let the initial feeling pass. At least they hadn't left her laying there without that. It was probable that the doctors realized how non-fatal the shot was (as she had planned) and knew that she'd be waking up soon. She was breathing on her own, no tube in her throat. She didn't know how much time had passed or what she even looked like but this was going to take a lot of effort. The narcotics would help her relax, go through every idea she had calmly while she waited for the help that was supposed to be sent her way. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"Except, the help still didn't come. It was a few hours later when she had woke again. Wrist still chained to the bed. There was a catheter in, she could feel it and she didn't like it. Wanting to scream, more in frustration than pain, she found the button again and pressed it. If no one had noticed she was awake yet she wasn't going to alert them to it. The moment they did, they'd want to question her and she still wasn't quite sure she could fool them as well as she intended to. With her wrist chained like that, she wasn't going to get to a phone and there was no use in trying to grab one that was publicly accessed. She'd have to get her own phone which was in her house. Just as she began to drift again, through the slit of her eye she noticed someone approaching the door. She closed it quickly and went limp, hoping to still look unconscious and avoid any sort of questioning. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Mrs. MacLeish." A female voice said. She definitely recognized it. That was the voice of the bitch Agent Wells. It had crossed her mind to shoot Hannah too. For a split second, she'd thought about it as she also thought it wouldn't matter if she had died. The problem was, she knew that she was also being watched by the FBI and in the event that she didn't die (which had always been the plan) the last thing she needed to be held on was murder or attempted murder of an FBI agent. "You may want to be aware that I've been informed that your morphine button has been triggered twice. By you. If you hadn't been awake there isn't any way that could have been done." Beth still didn't move, Hannah had a fair point but there was also no way to prove that she wasn't asleep or unconscious again for some reason. She wasn't going to fall for that shit, not right now. There was movement and she heard a chair scraping over the tiles so it was pulled up next to the bed. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""I can wait." More movement as Hannah sat down. Beth still didn't budge. Maybe Hannah could wait, she didn't doubt that. What she did doubt was that everything else could wait. Kirkman would want to see her, someone would call her away for FBI shit. She may be able to sit there for an hour or two but not longer. Something would happen, someone would call, and with any luck, her own organization would cause some sort of event so they could have people shipped in to get her out of there and reassign her to another project. If Hannah thought she could wait a long time, Beth knew she could wait longer than that. Besides, she'd just had another decent dose of morphine, it wasn't going to be hard to actually fall asleep for a few more hours with Hannah decided to be a stubborn twat about the situation. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"When she started to come to again, she did not open her eyes. Miraculously she remembered that Hannah had decided to try to wait her out. If that were the case she wasn't going to make any indication she was awake, even if she was aware again. She could hear the beeping of the machines and some muffled talking of people outside. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to see if she could detect any signs of life in her room. Someone sitting next to her, breathing, the scent of perfume or cologne. Nothing, for now. Slowly, her eye opened and she sat up. Looking around she tried to see if there may be something to pick the lock. Only one wrist was locked down. Standard FBI issued handcuffs. Those weren't even hard to get out of with her training. Worst came to worst she could just dislocate her thumb. It would hurt like a bitch but it was something she'd done multiple times before. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"She'd just have to figure out a pattern. When did the guards switch, how long did it take them to switch, were there any possible exits out of her room other than the only door, could she detach herself from everything she was hooked up to without setting off alarms that sounded like she flatlined? There would be time to figure this out as long as she stayed quiet. With a wound like the one she had there was absolutely no way she wouldn't be moved for at least a few days after they talked to her and if she faked some sort of mental complication from the wound they'd have to monitor her. She'd be too high profile to move to a prison, even a hospital prison ward, she was nearly untouchable for the moment since she was quite possibly the most important person the FBI had now to interrogate. There was someone coming towards the door again. Her depth perception had suffered greatly from this so she laid back quickly and closed her eye again. It was too late, she'd been seen. Time to improvise. /p  
p class="p1""You were just sitting up," Hannah said as she came through the door. Beth rolled her one good eye and winced as she found that caused pain in the new cavity that used to be her other eye. Obviously, her brain had tried to move that one too. This was going to take a lot of getting used to. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""What…who…who are you?" She muttered keeping her voice weak, which wasn't too hard. She wasn't aware of how long she hadn't spoken until she tried to. Her throat was dry and her voice was incredibly timid. Much more so than it normally was and that's right when she realized it hurt. It was painful to talk. Her free hand went to her throat and she could feel a bandage there as well. Right under her chin where she'd placed the gun. Fuck. Well, she supposed it made sense for there to be a bit of a neck injury but the pain in her eye had taken all the focus away from the entry wound on her chin and neck. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Don't try that with me." Hannah threatened. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Try…what?" She whined, "Please I…where am I? What is going…on?" She whimpered making herself attempt to sound as pathetic as humanly possible. There was almost no way they could prove she didn't have amnesia, she was near positive of that. With how her head felt wrapped up, there had to have been some indication of possible brain damage. She didn't know. If she had to guess, there was at least a bit of brain swelling with the force that a 9mm bullet would have had to make to pass through her skull, even if it never hit brain matter. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Amnesia." She heard Hannah mutter. Was she buying it? Good, that meant she'd predicted right and someone had mentioned possible brain damage to her. Beth slowly opened her eye. The light was painful but she wanted to try to see what was going on. Hannah had gotten her phone out to make a call but wasn't attempting to leave the room. "Hello, sir? Yes…no there's no new developments…well she's awake but….yes sir I understand that but….sir…sir, she has amnesia….we were warned of possible memory or other issues…yes, sir…yes, I know…thank you, sir, I'll keep you informed." She hung up the phone after that and slipped it back into her pocket. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Can you help me? Who are you? Just…stop talking on your phone and tell me who I am!" Beth demanded as she grew angrier. Thankfully because of how many undercover operations she'd had to run before this point she was a great actress and sounded believably confused and upset. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Alright, take a deep breath," Hannah told her and approached the bed, taking a seat in the chair that clearly hadn't been moved since she'd originally moved it into that place. "Your name is Beth MacLeish."/p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Uh-Huh…" Beth said slowly, increasing her breath to a quicker pace so she was hyperventilating. She was hoping to set off one of the alarms so the doctors would come in there and tell Hannah she had to come back later. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""You don't remember anything that happened? How you got here?" /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""No…No, I don't. I don't even…how do you know who I am? My name is…is Beth? How?" She asked managing to bullshit up some pretty real looking tears. "Please help me why…why am I handcuffed? I didn't do anything!" This moment, this was exactly why it was important for her to be in this position and not Peter. That man would have told this Agent everything in about five seconds. She definitely knew better than that and it was why she had outranked him enough to be in command of that partnership. She'd thought for a while she was in control but he'd certainly proved her wrong. Dumb bastard. He deserved that shot to the head. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""You've been accused of murdering your husband and the Vice President of the United States," Hannah told her. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""What?! That's…that's ridiculous…" She said working her breathing up more, setting off her heart rate. Her blood pressure climbing, the alarms started to ring. Good. It was only a matter of time before someone came in there and warned Hannah to stop upsetting her. "I didn't do that I would never do that I…I don't even remember having a husband. You're a liar….A LIAR!" She yelled. It hurt her throat but it would be worth it. She had to be as convincing as possible to keep pulling off this whole amnesia story. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Hey, it's okay just take a deep breath, calm down." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Calm down? CALM DOWN!? You tell me how you'd feel waking up like…like this and then some…a woman comes in here and says you…you have…you murdered someone!" She screamed. Before Hannah could say anything else the door crashed open. Beth turned her head and saw a doctor come in there, followed by a nurse that came over to her. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""You're going to have to leave." The doctor said. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""But she-"/p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""She's not going to be of any use to her if she goes into shock or cardiac arrest." The doctor snapped quickly. The nurse gently tried to urge Beth to lay back but she fought against it. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""WHAT'S GOING ON! WHY IS SHE SAYING THESE THINGS?" /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Please…try to calm down Mrs. MacLeish." The nurse said to her, but she didn't listen, on purpose. It only took another moment of fighting before the nurse grabbed her arm and IV port and something was injected. Something strong enough that it almost instantly hit her and rendered her completely calm. It was a nice feeling and she was forced to lay back against the bed. It was what she'd been waiting for. A sedative which would make it impossible to answer questions. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Agent Wells, leave. She's going to be out, for now, you can try again later." The doctor said, "You've already been informed that this was a possibility, her brain has shown very considerable signs of swelling. She has to rest until we can get her back in for another MRI." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""And when will that be?" Hannah outright demanded. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""It will be when she's stable enough to handle it." The doctor replied, "Now, you can leave or I can have you removed. You may be FBI but I have jurisdiction over the well-being of my patients." Beth was too sedated to be able to open her eye at that point but she could almost hear Hannah getting frustrated as she huffed out her breath. Her heels clicking on the tile before the noise grew softer and softer as they headed down the hall. The nurse was dismissed and the door was shut but the doctor stayed there. Beth was in and out of it, a slight daze. They'd either given her Versed or Ativan. She was a certified nurse herself but it wasn't an occupation she'd currently been working in when the plot with Peter went into effect. She understood quite a bit of medical terminology and procedure. There were footsteps as the doctor approached. For a moment not much happened but then he leaned over her and very quickly slipped something metal into her hand. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""You should have informed us before you went rogue like that." He muttered softly. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""You should have been more on the ball, you knew this was the last resort." /p  
p class="p1""It shouldn't have come to this." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""It did." She muttered back having very little energy to keep talking since she'd been heavily sedated. "What now?" /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Nothing now, not currently, other than waiting." He said, "We'll get you out of here but they need to think you are dead if you're going to vanish and not be in danger. We're working on it. Keep up the amnesia act, I see they weren't exaggerating when they said you were a quick thinker." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""It's why I was given the authorization to terminate Peter if need be, not the other way around." She whispered. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Point made. There's a phone in your bathroom, behind the toilet. Use it to make contact when the guards change." He said, "It takes them about ten minutes so be fast." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Understood." She breathed. It was then that she realized what he had slipped into her hand was a key and it was going to be one to open the cuffs. The movement around her stopped, she assumed whatever he had been doing while he spoke looked like he was checking on her in some capacity. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""This is the tightest spot any of our agents has ever gotten into. Don't screw it up." He warned and then she heard him leave, the door shutting behind him. At least now she had some sort of plan beyond waiting it out. Hopefully, it wouldn't be long before they made her vanish again and another attempt could be made on Kirkman's life. She hoped to god that she'd be the one to pull the trigger. She wanted him out of the way and she wanted it bad enough to murder him herself. She'd do it the right way. /p  
p class="p2" /p  
p class="p1"The sedative had kept her out for quite a bit. When her eyes opened again it was in the middle of the night. She could tell from how it looked outside of her window. She looked at the clock on the wall, finally noting the time. She was going to have to remember to keep doing that because she'd be in a very bad state if she lost track of things now. It said it was 3:15am. She'd been given a key to the cuffs, sure, but there was a catheter in. Obviously, she wasn't meant to get up on her own or without assistance. Of course, that's not what they'd want. She didn't think the FBI really had any idea how dangerous she actually was just yet. The intel they would be able to get on her would just be plain. Ordinary housewife, married to Peter forever. Nothing significant or abnormal that would lead them to believe she was a nurse and trained killer. She definitely knew how to remove a catheter but she wasn't happy with the idea of doing it. She also didn't know how often the guards changed, she just knew that they did and it took about ten minutes. That's what the doctor had said. He was now her informant apparently. Why couldn't he just make contact? Probably because her superior would absolutely want to verify she was still alive. Depending on that guy's rank he also may not be privileged to all the information she needed to be told. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"She looked at the door and saw that the guards weren't really even paying attention to her. Their backs were to the door and they were talking. Not that she could hear them but she could see them turning to look at each other every once in a while and motion to other things. They weren't really doing their jobs. Still, it wasn't as if they had reason to suspect she was dangerous or would do anything. She carefully unlocked the cuff from her wrist and leaned over as far as she could, managing to grab two of the gloves from the counter. After that, she reached under the sheets and removed the catheter. Fuck, that had not been fun. When they asked (and she was sure they would) she would tell them it was irritating her and she wasn't interested in keeping it in anymore. Also, she'd probably ask why she even needed it. Feign ignorance. Legally, they couldn't force it back into her without consent and she'd be able to have regular bathroom breaks after that point. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"She took those gloves off and hid them under her sheets then she reached up and pulled down the bags that her IV were attached to. It wouldn't be very wise to disconnect them, then everyone would know something was wrong. Though she did know how to hook them up again, since she also knew she couldn't do it in a manner that was sanitary, taking down the bags and carrying them with her was a better idea than trying to risk an infection that might kill her. Besides, she was still in a lot of pain and would be very annoyed if she didn't have direct access to narcotics. She didn't need them but she wanted them in the moment if she could have them. The worst part about doing any of that was tricking the infusion machine into opening up for her so she could get that bag down as well. Since she was a nurse herself she knew plenty of override codes and she got lucky when the second one worked. A lot of them were universal, only a few were unique to certain hospitals. From what she could tell this wasn't a private hospital so using the more public codes had been her best bet. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"Looking at the door again, she saw the guards still weren't paying attention. She slipped out of the bed and got her bare feet on the cold tile. Not only was that uncomfortable but her legs didn't want to seem to work. How long had she been in that bed? It stood to reason it had been a long time, especially if the brain swelling thing was true and if she had surgery (likely) it could have been a week or two. She'd have to ask someone but make it just seem like an innocent and general inquiry question. She hurried to the bathroom and shut the door. Behind the toilet, as she felt around, she found a small phone which had been taped there. Pulling it from its spot carefully, she dialed the number she knew for making contact and put it to her ear. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""MacBeth?"/p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Reporting in." She whispered, she hated that code name. Not only was it stupid but it was obvious and she couldn't wait to get back to using either her real identity or being assigned a different one entirely. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""You survived." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""That is correct." She replied. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""What is your status?" /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Wounded but mobile." She said. The reason he wanted to know was because he wanted to be aware of what abilities she had in her own escape plan. It would help them decide what to do and how to get her out of there. "I had to get up to get to this phone, I don't have much time." /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""Understood." He said. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""What next?" /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""There will be an incident. During that incident, panic will ensue and you will have a window of time to get yourself out of there. I suggest you do that. Meet at the rendezvous point no more than 12 hours after that time. If you do not, your window is closed and you will be considered rogue." He explained. That was just great, they weren't giving her very much information. She doubted it was because she wasn't trusted, it was more that he didn't know what the incident would be. They were probably waiting to verify what state she was in before planning anything. An incident could be anything from a fire to a bomb going off. Something large enough scale that attention wouldn't be on her and all hands would be needed on deck in another part of the hospital. /p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1""I understand sir." She said. Twelve hours was seemingly a lot of time to get to a rendezvous spot but it wasn't very long when one considered that they had just murdered the Vice President and were suspected in some huge terrorist plot to take down not only congress but the president himself. The communication was closed after that. She put the phone back in place and slipped out of the bathroom, heading back to her bed and getting in. The agents outside of the door were still chatting casually. She slipped back into the bed and put her IV bags back in place. She hooked the bag of morphine back into the infusion machine and entered the codes again to start everything back up. Even that small bit of work left her head pounding and her throat aching. How the hell was she supposed to escape during some type of incident and also make it to a damn rendezvous point in 12 hours? Knowing the organization she worked for, this was going to happen at night. When there was less staff there. This meant that it could happen either in the next few hours or it would happen in the night following this one but it would be quick as they would know that the more time she spent there, the longer they had to get to her and attempt to get the information they needed./p  
p class="p1" /p  
p class="p1"Her hand shakily pressed the button to release the morphine, she'd upped the dosage a bit. Not enough to be dangerous (the machine wouldn't allow that) but enough to give her a stronger buzz and keep her mind off the pain far better. They'd just been giving her the bare minimum before. Probably going under the theory that she didn't deserve that much with what her crimes against the alleged government were. If only those doctors knew who they had in that room. That her position was one of the most important positions that existed. She was with the real government. The people that made things happen. The shadows that ran everything and made things happen. If they knew who she was they'd fear her, not treat her like inferior prison scum. She sighed as the narcotics took hold and once again relaxed her. Hopefully they'd give her another twenty-four hours before launching whatever sort of attack they needed to do in order to give her an escape window. She really didn't think she was up for it now but if she had to do it, she would. It was better than being considered rogue. That was just a nice way of telling her that she'd be terminated on sight if she wasn't in the right place at the right time. /p 


End file.
